Something Nice Back Home
by piccolina789
Summary: Sequel to "Heart of the Matter". After Sara and Grissom settle into a peaceful life with their baby son, they think nothing can disrupt their happiness. They couldn't have been more wrong.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So here's the deal. I really wanted to write a sequel to "Heart of the Matter" (and I promise, I never forgot all of you who said you wanted one too) but I could never find the right plot or motivation. I think I have it now. But with working three jobs, going to school full time, struggling to figure out what to do with my life after graduation and trying to keep a social life, I might not be able to update this as regularly as I usually do. So basically, let me know if you are reading, interested, and want to continue with this story. If there's enough interest, I will try my BEST to keep writing and updating. Thank you in advance to everyone who reads, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

An unheard, probably nonexistent noise woke Grissom from his deep slumber. Blinking his eyes sleepily, he reached across the sheets and comforters, rumpled from earlier escapades, and fumbled in the dark, searching for his wife and her waist. He only found tangled sheets and a cold pillow.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes before sitting up slightly, glancing over at the clock, which read 3:17 a.m., and back towards the empty space beside him in bed. There was only one place Sara could be.

Sliding from the covers and pulling a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt on as he stumbled out of the bedroom, he made his way towards the ex-study, the recently designated nursery. He inched open the door. A swirling blue light was coming from the wall of Aiden's crib, a plastic, mini fish tank making soothing noises as the baby cooed beneath it. Grissom made his way to the crib, reaching his hand over the wall to stroke his son's soft, smooth cheek. The baby's round, blue eyes blinked back at him.

"Where's your mama, buddy?" Grissom asked him softly, smiling. "Did you wear her out again?"

Aiden gurgled at him sleepily.

Grissom squinted into the shadows. Tucked in the corner between the closet and a freshly painted bookshelf was a rocking chair, and Sara was collapsed in it, her head drooping sideways and her hand dangling in the air, stretching off the armrest. Grissom smiled softly at her, too, before creeping nearer to her and planning a gentle kiss on her lips. Sara's eyes fluttered open.

"Morning, honey."

Sara stifled a yawn.

"Why's it so dark?" she murmured. "Where am I?"

"You fell asleep in the baby's room again," Grissom answered quietly, taking her hands and started to pull her up. "It's still early. Come back to bed."

Sara's eyes went straight towards Aiden as Grissom tried to lead her to the doorway.

"But, Aiden-"

"Is fine," Grissom finished, planting another firm kiss on her forehead. "C'mon."

Sara gave him a reluctant smile, but stopped at Aiden's crib before letting him lead her back to their bedroom. Since they had brought Aiden home three months ago, she had spent more nights in the small nursery than in Grissom's king-sized mattress. Catherine had told both of them it had taken three years to get rid of the bags under her eyes when she had Lindsay, but Grissom was unconvinced. Sara gave so much energy looking after Aiden, he wanted to make sure he spent just as much time looking after Sara.

He watched as Sara leaned over the bars of the crib, clutching her robe to her body with one hand and stroking Aiden's arm with the other. To Grissom, there was nothing more beautiful than watching Sara with their son. She was a natural, despite all of her former misgivings, and Aiden was a mama's boy from the start, refusing to fall sleep anywhere but in Sara's arms. Grissom used to be sure that he could never experience a deeper love than the one he felt for Sara, but all that changed when his son was born, and it proved him wrong again and again as he watched his wife and son together. He loved them both, more than anything in the world.

Once in their dark, quiet room, Sara curled up on the mattress, still wrapped in her robe. Grissom ignored undressing too, and laid down beside her, stroking her hair.

"I love you, Sara."

He waited for her quiet response, but it never came. She was already fast asleep, her deep breaths making strands of her hair blow into the air. He smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her against his chest, hoping that both she and Aiden slept until morning.

He was surprised, then, to find that when his eyes fluttered open in the early morning sun, Sara was still curled up beside him, sleeping soundly, and soft, even breaths were coming from the baby monitor on the bedside table. He basked in the moment, watching the morning rays fall on Sara's features, and he pushed the hair out of her face. The last three months had felt like heaven to him, just him, Sara and Aiden (and Hank, of course, who let his owners know every day that he was still there and important) living as a family day in and day out. Catherine had promised Sara all the maternity time she needed and while he had taken a few consulting jobs and was currently teaching an online course in forensics at UNLV, he was able to spend most of his time at home.

Next to him, Sara's eyes were fluttering open. He traced her jaw and mouth and her lips puckered out to kiss his fingertips.

"Hey," she said, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Hi," he whispered back, his fingers now trailing down her arm and over her stomach.

He grinned at her mischievously as his fingers tugged at the fabric of her robe and discovered that nothing but skin laid underneath. Her eyes flickered to the baby monitor, but when nothing but soft breathing continued to come out of it, she relented and leaned in to kiss her husband. He was just working the robe off her freckled shoulders when a shrill ring from the bedside table interrupted them. Sara's eyes closed in annoyance, and Grissom stretched around her to grab the phone. He recognized the number right away.

"You've reached Sara," he said into the phone. "She's otherwise occupied, so please try again when it's not so obnoxiously early in the morning."

"Cute, Gil," said a voice Grissom instantly identified as Catherine's. "Put your wife on the phone. I need her."

"Not as much as I do," he said in an absurdly sing-songy voice. He heard Catherine groan as he passed the phone to his half-undressed wife. Sara rolled her eyes at him as she accepted the call.

"Hi, Catherine," she said as Grissom pushed the sides of her robe back a little further and placed his mouth on her stomach. "Oh! Okay."

Grissom began tracing circles on her inner thigh and Sara reached out to slap his hand away, wriggling a little in impatience.

"Um, sure, I think I can get there," she was saying tersely, every muscle in her body tense as she tried not to betray what Grissom's touches were doing to her. "Uh huh."

She caught his eye and give him a look that plainly said, _"you're going to get it, buster."_ To Grissom, this meant that if he was already going to be in trouble, he might as well go for the home run. He dipped a few fingers into her core and Sara couldn't help but let out a loud, surprised gasp. She instantly clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"Yeah, okay, well, you and Grissom just finish up whatever you've got going on there and I'll see you in an hour," Catherine was saying on the other line.

"Yeah," Sara replied, strained. "Yeah, thanks, Cath. See ya."

She snapped the phone shut, but instead of slapping him again or immediately reprimanded him, she lifted her hips into the air, bucking against his hand. He snickered impishly and stroked her harder, feeling her muscles already beginning to tense around him. Feeling rebellious, he withdrew his fingers just as he felt Sara's impending climax. Her mouth dropped and she glared at him incredulously.

"Oh, no you _don't_," she scolded him, grabbing what she knew was already a firm erection and placing it demandingly close to her. They were nose-to-nose.

"Now," she commanded.

He gave her a sly grin and slipped into her, giving her at least a little mercy by moving inside her quickly and roughly. It didn't take long for Sara to come, and he followed her just moments afterwards. He thought he was off the hook, until, when they laid in the afterglow, Sara gave an unexpected jab into his ribs with her elbow.

"You… are… _terrible_," she said, pinching him a little with each word. "That was _Catherine_, Gil, on a _work call_."

When he just grinned at her in response, she gave him another soft jab and slipped out of bed, shaking her head and muttering, "terrible".

"Where are you going?"

"Into work, Romeo," she said. "Today's my first day back, remember?"

Grissom double-checked the baby monitor again before slipping out of bed after her and following her into the bathroom.

"But you're not supposed to start until tonight."

"Big case came up and Catherine needs me right away," Sara answered, her head in the sink as she splashed water on her face. "The guys are already pulling a double… they could use a fresh set of eyes."

She patted her face dry and Grissom walked over to her, put his hands on her waist and drew her against him. She had pulled on a bra and panties on her way to the bathroom, but he was still stark naked and his manhood still… manly.

"Are you _sure _you don't just want to stay home with me?" he asked, pressing himself between her thighs. "And your son who loves you oh-so much?"

"Oh, way to guilt trip me," she laughed before turning serious. "You know I'd rather stay here with you, but I have to go back to work sometime. No time like the present!"

She slipped out of his grasp and went into the closet, rummaging for a pair of jeans and a clean t-shirt. Most of their laundry these days consisted of onesies and puked-on bibs, their own clothes often laying forgotten until one of them ran out of socks.

"But… do you really?" Grissom asked, now serious too. "We don't _need_ the money, you know that. And you'd be able to stay at home with Aiden."

"I want to," she reassured him as she pulled a dark blue shirt over her head. "And we've talked about this. God knows I love Aiden to death, but I don't think full-time mom will ever be me. I need work to keep me sane. And besides, I'm only working half shifts, and on grave, I'll be back before Aiden even wakes."

"You'll be exhausted," he pressed.

"I'll be fine," she said, pausing in her dressing to lay a hand on his cheek to reassure him further. "I can do it."

"I have no doubt," he beamed at her. "But keep your cell on, and make sure Catherine knows to let you leave if you need to."

"I know," she said soothingly, pushing her foot into a shoe as she leaned up a little to kiss him. "I'll be fine. You just look after my little guy."

"Ah, you know us," Grissom said, following her out the closet and into the bedroom as she gathered her coat and bag. "Probably just drink some beer and watch some ball."

She rolled her eyes and kissed him again, when, as if on cue, Aiden's strangled cry came from the small speaker of the baby monitor. Sara raised her eyebrows at him.

"What, did you teach him to do that to make me stick around longer?"

"Only if he's a genius child," Grissom teased back, eyes sparking. "Then again, he is your son."

Sara struggled to hide her grin as she trotted out the bedroom and down the hall to the nursery. She dropped her bag at the doorway and Grissom leaned against the door frame as she went straight to the crib, lifting her son gently from the mattress and holding him securely against her chest.

"Hey, baby boy," she said soothingly, bouncing him ever so slightly. He instantly began to calm. "Hey, big guy. What's all this noise about, huh? What's all this noise about?"

She brought Aiden's forehead to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

"You're going to spend the day with daddy today," she said, throwing an adorable look at Grissom. _Daddy_. That was him now.

"You're going to be a good boy, right?" Sara was continuing, make her way slowly to Grissom.

With well-practiced ease, she passed their son from her to him. Aiden made a slight gurgle of discontent, but once he recognized the second set of familiar arms, settled back into his contented disposition, sucking on four of his fingers.

"Bye, boys," Sara whispered, obviously more reluctant to go now than she was five minutes ago. "I'll miss you both."

"We'll miss you too, honey," Grissom smiled at her. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

"I know."

She pressed another kiss on Aiden's head, followed by one on Grissom's lips. She stooped to pick up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and made her way to the front door, Grissom following her much more slowly, imitating the bouncing action she was doing earlier.

"What is this hot case, anyways?" he called after her.

"Four-nineteen in Henderson," she answered. "Catherine didn't give me a lot of details, but it seems shady, probably domestic abuse gone way too far."

She caught his eye and he must have been betraying his worry on his face, because she instantly reassured him.

"I'll be fine, I promise," she said. "I'm a lot stronger than I used to be."

"I know. Just be careful."

"I always am. I love you both."

Grissom picked up Aiden's tiny hand and waved it in a mock goodbye.

"We love you, too."

Sara smiled and closed the door behind her, and for several moments, Grissom stood in place, bouncing Aiden who was still smiling happily in his arms and wondering how they had gotten to the place where Sara was off working and he was at home with a three-month-old baby. He wouldn't change it for the world.

He bounce-walked Aiden to the window just in time to watch Sara's car pull out of the drive.

"Say bye-bye to mommy," he whispered, thinking he and Aiden could curl up with a good episode of Sesame Street and a few bottles; one of milk, one of the more alcoholic persuasion. He settled into the couch, Aiden still nestled in the crook of his arm, leaned back and sighed in complete content.

And thus began the day that would begin the process that would snatch peace and happiness from the lives of Gil, Sara and Aiden Grissom.

"People so reasonable, so devoted, so strongly loving and hard working should have been exempt, one feels, from the vagaries of a malicious fate."*

If only fate were sympathetic.

* * *

*Quote is from "The Wife of Martin Guerre", which I am currently reading.

**TBC!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you very, very much to everyone who said they'd keep reading, I really appreciate it. I had a burst of motivation after posting the first chapter, so I have more written than I expected (I'm two months away from graduation... who cares about homework? Right?). I hope you guys will get as excited about this story while reading it as I did while writing it.

Enjoy! And let me know what you think, if you'd like.

* * *

"Sara, thank God."

It was the phrase that greeted her as she walked, field kit in hand, towards the large house surrounded by police cars and taped off with yellow crime scene tape. She dipped below the tape to meet Catherine.

"Nice to see you, too."

Catherine paused amongst the madness of the crime scene to smile at her colleague.

"Sorry, Sara," she said. "Welcome back. How's the little guy?"

"No bigger than when you saw him three days ago," Sara teased. "Fill me in."

The two women began walking towards the house, where Brass was interviewing a guy who looked like a nervous wreck, wringing his hands around and around, his eyes never meeting Brass's.

"The husband," Catherine nodded to him. "He was on a business trip in Boston the whole week, came back home to find his wife like this."

Sara followed Catherine into the living room, where a pretty, 30-something brunette was lying stretched on the sofa. She had bruises covering most of her arms, ligature marks on around her neck and one heck of a black eye.

"I thought you said this was domestic abuse," Sara commented as her eyes swept over the scene.

"That was before we knew the husband's alibi," Catherine answered. "Brass checked with his connection at McCarran, and he was definitely on the flight this morning. No way he did this."

Sara set her kit down near the room's entryway, pulled gloves onto both her hands and knelt close to the victim. She cocked her head to the side and pushed a little of the curly brown hair away of the victim's face.

"Any chance some of these bruises are old?"

"You tell me," Catherine said. "I've been processing upstairs with Nick. Greg's been down here, but Brass pulled him away to help with the interviews. I'll get him for you."

"Thanks."

Catherine left Sara to her work, but without knowing what Greg had already processed, she could do nothing but observe. From what she could see, there was little trace on the body. She peered at the victim's fingernails and didn't see any kind of… anything… under there.

"She didn't fight."

The words came from behind her, as if someone was reading her mind. She turned to see Greg. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when she grinned at him.

"How's my girl?"

"Glad to be back at work," she replied. "You might think I'm crazy, but I kinda miss this."

"Knowing you, I'm not surprised," Greg joked. "How's my boy?"

"Oh, he's fine. Missing his wife, I'm sure."

Greg glared at her.

"My other boy," he said. "The one who's my godson."

"Oh, that one," Sara teased, winking at him. "He's amazing. Sleeps through most of the night and couldn't be happier."

Greg pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and knelt beside her.

"Can I still come over tomorrow to see him?"

"Of course," she said, leaning over a little to nudge his shoulder. "Lord knows he loves you."

They smiled at each other fondly. Sara hadn't forgotten how Greg had been there for her throughout her pregnancy, never judging her for the decisions she made during it and helping her through it every step of the way. He came over at least three to four times a week to play with his godson, who positively adored him. Greg was the only one besides his parents that Aiden allowed to feed him a bottle. He had a good sense of character.

"Anyway," Sara said. "What do you have so far?"

"I collected a few white fibers from her clothing, but other than that, I've found no trace," Greg said, slipping into professional mode. "Dave put T.O.D. at around five hours ago, the husband called it in two hours ago."

"Cause of death?"

"Strangulation," Greg said, pointing to her neck. "Probably with some kind of rope or fabric. These bruises are fresh too, he beat her up pretty good before he killed her."

Sara leaned back from the couch a little to look around the room.

"Any sign of who could have done this? Footprints? Trace?"

"So far, notta," Greg said. "But I haven't processed much other than the couch. That's where you come in."

"Reporting for duty."

Sara got to work, scouring the living room, entryway and kitchen for any trace of an intruder. The door wasn't forced, no windows were broken, and from what Sara could tell, the perp had left nothing behind to easily identify himself. On her knees in the kitchen, Sara sighed. This shift was one that could easily turn into a double, but she was already missing Gil and Aiden. She felt her back pocket vibrate and she reached for it, opening it to find a text.

"We hope you're catching bad guys! Miss and love you. G&A."

Sara beamed at the words, flipping the phone shut and pressing it to her chest before pushing herself off the floor and making her way back to Greg in the living room.

"Anything?" she asked hopefully.

"Not a thing," Greg replied dejectedly. "This guy is either a professional or a ghost, I can't find a _thing_."

A sudden scuffling from outside drew their attention. They were just starting to make their way to the front door, Catherine and Nick coming down the stairs to join them, when Brass stepped through the doorway, looking grave.

"We now have a 418 on our hands," he said. "The victim's son. A fourteen-month-old little boy."

And at once, four pairs of eyes landed right on Sara.

* * *

"I'm a professional, Catherine, you said it yourself during the Gilbert Foundation case," Sara said. "I can handle this."

"This is… different, Sara," Catherine responded. "And I'm not saying you're not a professional, I'm just saying that if you can't handle this, I can pull you off-"

"Why can't I handle this?" Sara challenged. "Because I'm a mom now?"

"Look, Sara, I've been there," Catherine shot back. "I'm a mom too, I know how it is. Every missing or dead or injured kid… I saw Lindsey. Doesn't matter how impartial I tried to be, it just happened."

Sara took a long, slow breath.

"I appreciate your concern," she said. "I really do. But I can handle this. If it gets too much… I'll let you know."

Catherine looked at her skeptically.

"Seriously!" Sara exclaimed. "I'll be fine!"

"Okay, okay," Catherine relented. "I just don't want to suffer the wrath of your husband."

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

Catherine shot her another unconvinced look, but Brass stepped up and joined them, ending any further debate.

"Here's what we know," the detective began. "Husband's name is Joshua Castrova, his flight from Boston arrived at seven this morning, and he stopped at the grocery store on the corner to buy his wife flowers. Came in, found her, called it in."

"Any particular reason why he _forgot_ to mention he had a son until now?" Catherine interjected.

Brass shrugged.

"Distress?" he answered. "He says he was so upset over seeing his wife, he completely forgot that his son should have been in the house too."

"Do you believe that?" Sara asked him honestly. Brass usually had a pretty good sense of judgment when it came to suspects.

"As of right now, yeah," he said. "But we can't rule anything out."

He turned to Catherine.

"You didn't find any trace of the kid around the house?"

Catherine shook her head, her blonde hair dancing around her shoulders.

"I didn't think so," he sighed. "We're putting out the Amber Alert now, but the husband has no idea where he might be."

"If he's in the hands of the same guy who did this to her," Catherine said, nodding towards the living room. "It doesn't look good. I'm going to keep processing the upstairs… we haven't finished yet, and I'm sure one of the rooms we haven't gotten to is a baby's room."

"Make it your priority," Brass called after her. She nodded in agreement.

The detective turned towards Sara as Catherine made her way back upstairs with Nick.

"You going to be working on this one, kiddo?" he asked.

Sara couldn't help but sigh a little. He knew he was only concerned, he always seemed to be when it came to her, but being a new mother didn't make her an incapable CSI.

"Nothing like a hot case on your first day back," she said, trying to sound light.

Brass gave her a small smile and an even smaller nod, and she took that as her cue to rejoin Greg.

"What do you think the chances are they'll find him?"

Sara shrugged, her eyes landing back on the young wife lying beaten and broken on the couch.

"Who knows," she sighed.

* * *

Sara pulled into the drive, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had stayed at the lab much longer than she had intended. She and Greg pored over the pictures of the crime scene, still coming up with nothing. She found Nick in the break room, on his fifth cup of coffee as he tried to find something, anything, helpful from the upstairs nursery. Not a thing. And they still hadn't found the son.

Finally, Catherine had sent her home, telling her not to come in next shift unless the desperately needed her. She'd be an extra on this case, called in when things got hot, but for right now, things were exceedingly stale.

She stepped out of the car, grabbing the newspaper from the sidewalk and waving hello to their neighbor, who was taking out the trash.

"Hey, Vince," she called to the middle-aged man.

"Mrs. Grissom," he greeted her back, giving her a half-wave.

She opened the front door to the house, finding Aiden asleep on his back in the playpen and Grissom asleep on his back on the couch. Reruns of Sesame Street were flickering on the television behind him. She smiled down at her sleeping son, brushing aside the few wisps of hair he had before moving to her husband. She didn't want to wake him, but she so desperately wanted to feel his arms around her, she crawled on the couch and snuggled up to him as best she could.

"Hey," he murmured sleepily.

"Hey," she said back, her fingers clutching at his shirt. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you."

"It's okay," he said, wriggling around so they were a little more comfortable. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "How was shift?"

"Rough," Sara replied. "Suspect left us _nothing_ at the scene, the girl was beaten out of her mind and her one-year-old son is missing."

Grissom's eyes immediately clouded with concern and she cut him off before he could murmur a word.

"Don't say a thing," she said. "I can handle it."

He gave her a little smile.

"I know you can," he said. "I was just going to say how tough a case that sounds. Any leads on the little boy?"

"Not so far," she replied, checking her phone for texts. "Greg said he'd let me know if they hear anything."

"Catherine sent you home early?"

Sara nodded.

"God bless her."

They both laughed and leaned in to kiss. A soft gurgle came from the crib.

"Well, hi," Sara said, walking to the pen.

Aiden's arms reached up at the sight of her, his hands opening and closing, and she bent down to pick him up, pressing him against her chest.

"Oh, I missed you, baby," she said, kissing his forehead. "Did you miss me? Were you a good boy for Daddy?"

"Yes and yes," Grissom beamed at her. "What do you say to breakfast for dinner?"

"I say that sounds amazing."

"Good."

Grissom rose from the couch and gave both Sara and Aiden a kiss before he made his way to the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he heard Sara talking softly to Aiden, laying him down on his play mat, where blinking, musical toys dangled from above. He heard giggles coming from both his wife and his child and felt a warming in his chest. He flipped the omelets over as Sara walked in with Aiden in her arms.

"You look tired, honey," he said as she sat at the table.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes fixed on Aiden.

He placed a large vegetarian omelet in front of her and stretched his arms out for the baby. She kissed him and handed him over before digging in.

"Someone's hungry too," Grissom said with raised eyebrows, taking the seat next to her.

"You get pampered after three months of maternity leave," she said through a mouthful of food.

Hank rounded the corner and padded up to Sara, eager to join the family time. Sara gave him a good scratch behind the ears as she continued to eat.

"Hey buddy," she said as his tail wagged furiously. "No omelet for you."

Hank's ears drooped a little, but he bounded towards the front door and gave an eager bark. Sara glanced at Grissom.

"Someone needs a walk," she said, scooping the last few bites into her mouth. "I'll take him."

"Oh, no you won't," Grissom said, grabbing her plate with his free hand. "You're going to bed."

"Gil-"

"At least for an hour or two," he pressed. "I'll take Hank."

"But Aiden-"

"He'll come with me," Grissom interrupted. "We've been lazing around all day, all three of us could use the fresh air."

Sara narrowed her eyes, reluctant. But with a full stomach, her exhaustion set in and she couldn't help but admit that bed sounded pretty good.

"Okay," she relented. "But no more than an hour or two. Promise?"

"Promise."

Grissom started bundling Aiden in his jacket as Hank continued his anxious dance by the door.

"Thanks, honey," she said, giving him a quick kiss.

"Any time."

She smiled at him and headed for the bedroom.

"Hey, Sara?" he called after her.

"Yeah?"

"You're really okay with this case?"

She wanted to glare at him, but his genuine look of love and concern changed her mind.

"I'm okay," she reassured. "I promised Catherine I'd pull out of it if it gets too much, and I'll promise the same thing to you."

"Okay," Grissom agreed. "I love you. Get some sleep."

"Love you!"

Sara pulled on her pajamas and nearly dove into bed, the fluffy pillows feeling like heaven around her tired body. The familiar scent of detergent greeted her as she buried her face in the pillows. He'd done laundry too. She remembered that it was also Wednesday, the afternoon of his online class. What _couldn't_ her husband do?

Her eyelids fluttered closed, and sleep was about to overcome her when her phone rudely interrupted her rest. She groaned, keeping her eyes closed as she fumbled for the phone, pressing it semi-close to her ear.

"Sidle."

"It's me," came Greg's voice.

Sara's heart dropped. She knew Greg would know better than to call her right after a shift unless it was important. Sure enough, his next words confirmed her fear.

"They found him," Greg said. "The baby. It's not… it's not good."

Sara sat up, her fingers kneading her forehead.

"Do you need me?"

"Not now," Greg said. "Catherine and I have the scene. Just… spend some time at home, okay?"

"Okay," Sara sighed. "Thanks, Greg."

She snapped the phone shut and, as if in slow motion, set it back down on the bedside table and sank back into the pillows. She wanted to burst out the front door and chase down Grissom, get her son back into her arms so she knew he was okay.

She knew he was okay. He was out with Gil, on a walk safe and sound.

But she knew that the thought wouldn't help her sleep.

There was no way she could sleep.

* * *

**TBC!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Look at me, updating the next day! A lot of you said you'd be waiting for the next chapter, so I'm trying to make updates more frequent.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star."

Sara sang as she held Aiden in the air, his smile wide and beaming down at her.

"How I wonder what you are."

She lowered him, pulling her knees together, and resting him against her legs, one hand behind his neck. Grissom sat on the couch, facing them, smiling like a buffoon.

"What?" she challenged, tickling Aiden and blowing raspberries on his stomach.

"Do you know 'Twinkle, Twinkle' and the alphabet are sung to the same song?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sara laughed, scooping Aiden up and sitting next to Grissom on the couch, tucking her legs under her.

"Oh," Grissom said, looking a little disappointed.

"You really just realized that now?" she teased, her laughing growing hysterical.

"No," Grissom defended. "It's just… not everyone realizes that."

"Well, I _am_ a trained investigator," she winked at him. "I'm good at details."

"Yeah, yeah."

Grissom reached for Aiden and Sara handed him to him, stretching her arms with the release of his weight. A sharp knock came from outside the front door. Grissom's eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you expecting anybody?"

"Greg," she replied. "I didn't tell you?"

Grissom shook his head but looked unconcerned.

"The Castrova case has been taking up a lot of his time," she said. "He wanted to come say hi to Aiden before shift tonight."

"You guys making any progress?" he asked her as she strode to the door.

She shook her head, opened the door and smiled at Greg.

"Hey."

"Hey, Sara."

Grissom watched as he embraced his wife and entered the house.

"Hey, Grissom."

"Hi, Greg."

Greg's face broke out into a wide grin when he saw the baby bouncing on Grissom's knee.

"Hey, buddy!" he cooed. "Can I take him?"

"Of course," Grissom said, passing him over.

"Aw, hey, Aiden Gregory," he said.

Sara laughed. Greg always called him by his full name.

"God, Sara, he's getting so big!"

"Yeah," Sara said fondly. She leaned over to tickle him again. "And he's a chubby little guy!"

Greg put Aiden in his bouncer and sat cross-legged next to him, keeping the bouncer moving and the toys above it swinging.

"Sara told me there's not much to go on in the Castrova case," Grissom said.

A flash of disappointment crossed over Greg's face.

"More like nothing to go on," he said. "I've never seen a crime scene so clean. I mean, the victim's blood got on the couch and surrounding carpet, but other than that, I collected nothing that could link someone to the murder."

"The little boy?" Grissom asked.

Greg glanced at Sara, who gave him a tiny, encouraging smile.

"He was found under a park bench, wrapped in a blanket," Greg sighed. "Obviously suffocated. He died around the same time as the mother. I was really hoping we'd find him alive."

"Me too," Sara put in softly.

"Any theories?"

Greg shrugged a little.

"Nick and I tried to work one last shift," he said. "With all the lack of evidence, it's just a best guess, but we think he has to be someone the victim knew. He got his way into the house with no forced entry."

Sara nodded her agreement.

"We think he may have surprised her, when she was occupied with the baby," Greg continued. "And he either beat and killed her, then took the baby, or killed the baby first, while she watched, then took care of her, too."

"Neither are good options," Sara said softly, staring at the cooing Aiden.

"Yeah."

Greg nodded solemnly, the weight of the case hanging in the air. Grissom almost wished he hadn't brought it up, but his draw to the job hadn't deteriorated. He craved puzzles and theories, and this is one he wanted to help solve, for Sara.

"You guys working on it again tonight?"

"I think so," Greg said. "Unless something else comes up."

"Maybe I'll come in with you guys," Grissom said, glancing at Sara. "Take a look at the crime scene photos and see if I can see anything."

"What about Aiden?" Sara asked.

"Let's bring him in," Grissom said. "I won't stay long, we'll be back long before his bed time. And I'm sure his honorary aunts and uncles would love to see him."

Sara grinned, unable to argue with that. Together, they packed Aiden's travel bag while Greg kept watch over him and the four headed out the door to Greg's Denali. They'd barely taken three steps into the lab when Catherine was already descending upon them, kneeling down to see Aiden in his carrier.

"There's my baby boy!" Catherine exclaimed. "Sara, he's huge!"

She stood up to give Sara a hug and leaned over to kiss Grissom's cheek.

"How's life as parents treating you?" she asked.

"Little sleep, lots of midnight feedings and stress," Grissom replied cheerily. "So in short, wonderfully."

Catherine grinned at him.

"So to what do we owe the honor?"

"I'm here to help," Grissom replied. "With the Castrova case."

Catherine shrugged acceptingly.

"Nick's in the layout room now," she said. "I'm sure he'd love company."

She knelt back down to Aiden, who grinned at her and clapped his tiny hands.

"And if you need a babysitter, for this little guy, I'd love the company while I do paperwork."

"Actually, that'd be great," Sara said, shifting Aiden's carrier from one arm to the other. "He'll probably fall asleep soon… would you mind?"

"Are you kidding?" Catherine gaped. "Hand him over to Auntie Cath."

Sara passed over the carrier and diaper bag and took Grissom's hand.

"Let's go."

They made their way with Greg to the layout room, where, sure enough, Nick was pouring over a table full of crime scene photos. He glanced up when they entered the room, surprised at Grissom's appearance.

"Griss! Good to see you!"

Grissom accepted Nick's handshake and half-hug.

"Good to see you, too, Nicky."

"Sara," Nick smiled at her. "Where's the little man?"

"With Aunt Catherine," Sara beamed at him.

"My buddy's here?" Nick said excitedly. "I want dibs on babysitting duties."

"Catherine beat you to it," Sara laughed. "But where are you all at one a.m. when he wakes up screaming bloody murder?"

"Here," Nick answered, gesturing towards the table.

"What have you got?" Grissom asked anxiously.

"A whole lot of nothing," Nick replied, sliding the stool he was previously occupying over to Sara. She accepted it gratefully.

"That seems to be the buzzword for this case," Grissom said, pulling his glasses out of his pocket for a closer look.

"Tell me about it," Nick grumbled.

"These ones are mine of the primary scene," Greg jumped in, gesturing to the first few dozen photos. "Vic was beaten, then strangled to death."

"And these are mine and Catherine's from the upstairs nursery," Nick said. "Still no sign of forced entry and not a trace of who could have taken the kid."

"What about on his body?"

"I went to the autopsy last night," Greg said. "All Doc Robbins had was cause of death, which was the same as the mother's – strangulation."

"Anything from his primary?"

"These are Catherine's," Nick said, pulling more photos from a manila envelope. "No trace on the blanket, which came from the baby's room, no visible footprints nearby and she printed the bus bench, but obviously, it was smudge city."

The room fell silent as Grissom's trained eyes swept over the photos, picking a few up sometimes and placing them back without saying a word. Finally, he stared at one for several moments, prompting Nick to ask him what he was seeing.

"This smudge on her hip," Grissom answered. "That black substance there? What is that?"

Greg reached over for the photo to look at it closer.

"I don't know," he said. "I did swab that, it stood out because it was the only trace on her that wasn't blood. I gave it to Hodges."

"It almost looks like… an oil of some sort," Sara said from over Greg's shoulder. "Car oil, maybe?"

"Maybe your perp is a mechanic," Grissom added. "Or someone who likes to work on cars."

Catherine's voice from the doorway interrupted them.

"Did you train him to be like this? Or is he just naturally a perfect baby?"

Sleeping soundly in her arms was Aiden, wrapped up in the blue blanket Grissom's mother had given him the day after he was born. Sara smiled at the sight of her son, and reached out to take him from Catherine's arms.

"He's pretty much a natural at it," she said. "Is he boring company?"

"Not at all," Catherine said. "But Hodges just dropped off trace results and I figured you'd want it. The black substance is generic motor oil."

"Good timing," Nick said, nodding at Catherine before turning towards Sara. "And great guess."

"So, mechanic? Car enthusiast?" Greg said, repeating Grissom's earlier guesses.

"Maybe," Catherine said. "But it doesn't really get us any closer to finding this guy. Pretty much everything is cold."

"I want to nail this guy," Nick said. "What he did to that family was disgusting."

"Me too, Nick," Catherine nodded. "But in the meantime, you have a smash and grab. Greg, body at the Palermo. I'll be coming with you."

"What about me?" Sara piped up as Nick packed up the photos.

"I don't have much for you," Catherine said apologetically. "Take the night off?"

"What about the Castrova case?" Sara asked. "I can keep scouring the photos… follow up on that motor oil."

"You can if you want, Sara," Catherine said as Greg and Nick trooped out the door. "But I really don't know if it's worth it right now. Go home with your boys."

She bent down to kiss Aiden, waved goodbye to Grissom, and left the family standing in the layout room alone. Sara turned to Grissom, inquiring what he thought in her expression.

"There really _isn't_ much, Sara," he said.

"I know," she sighed, handing Aiden to Grissom so she could knead her fingers against her forehead. "I just hate leaving such a big case alone. What is it?"

Grissom was peering over her shoulder, an odd expression on his face.

"Who is that guy?"

Sara glanced over her shoulder to find a tall, lanky guy in a department-issued jumpsuit peering at them through the glass windows.

"New guy on Swing," Sara said. "I don't know what his name is, but I've seen him around. Why?"

"I don't like how he's looking at you."

"Oh, come now, jealously doesn't suit you," Sara teased.

But as she leaned down to softly kiss Aiden's head, she watched the tall man from the corner of her eye. He _did_ look shifty, but when she caught his eye, she offered him a small smile. He lifted his head slightly and continued down the hallway with an armful of bagged evidence. She leaned deeper into Grissom's embrace, where she felt safe.

Safe.

* * *

**TBC!**

If I hear from you... next chapter on Thursday? Maybe?**  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **So I gather the new Swing guy is not very well liked by the crowd? I am LOVING your guys' feedback. We're building things up... it'll really take off soon. Thanks so much for reading.

* * *

"These things look disgusting, buddy."

Sara was spooning mashed peas from the small jar into a colorful plastic bowl. Despite smelling nasty, Aiden's hands were banging against the table of his high chair in anticipation. Sara laughed and spooned the first bite into Aiden's drooling mouth. Dinner was usually a messy affair, and even Grissom had taken to wearing Sara's apron to avoid getting his clothes splattered with the mashed cuisine de la nuit.

But tonight, Grissom had a consulting job with some local company, so dinner was Sara's job, until the sitter arrived, that is. She was finally going in for a shift tonight. She hadn't been working much, Catherine was definitely monitoring her hours, but honestly, she didn't mind. She didn't feel the pressing _need_ to be at work like she used to, though she had to admit, the independence of still having a job was good for her. Their arrangement worked out perfectly, she still had time to lend a hand to the lab when they needed her, but she got to spend plenty (and most of) her time with Grissom and Aiden.

The doorbell rang and Aiden's round, blue eyes went wide. Sara's own eyes widened too, mimicking him.

"Who is that?" she asked, plucking him from his highchair and setting him on her hip. "Let's go see!"

She opened the door to a smiling, familiar face.

"Hey, Nicky."

"Hey, Sara," Nick said with a wide smile. "Hey, buddy!"

Aiden's arms reached out for Nick and Sara passed him over. Nick leaned in to kiss Sara's cheek, but stopped short.

"You've got a little, uh… something there," he said, wiping her cheek and coming away with a finger full of mashed peas.

Sara shook her head.

"One bite, and it's already all over me," she laughed. "Well, you get that honor from here. Bowl's on the table, he should eat right up and then just play a little. Grissom should be home no later than eleven, but give him a bath if he'll let you. He should go right to sleep, we've had a busy day. Right, baby?"

She leaned in to blow on his tummy, and Aiden's legs kicked in delight.

"Thanks so much for doing this, Nick," she said. "I know hanging out with a three-month-old is probably last on your list of things to do on your night off."

"Hey, I'll never miss out on a chance to hang out with my little man," Nick said, bouncing Aiden playfully. "It's scary how much he looks like you."

Sara beamed.

"Except for the eyes. His eyes are exactly like-"

"Grissom's," Nick interrupted in agreement. "Definitely. So why are you going in so early, anyway?"

"Body in Henderson," Sara replied. "Swing's too overloaded to cover it, so they called Grave in early. I'm meeting Greg at the scene."

"Have fun!"

"You too! Be a good boy," Sara smiled at her baby before looking at Nick. "Call me if you need _anything_, my cell will be on."

"We'll be fine," Nick assured her. "Be careful."

"I always am."

* * *

Greg and Brass both looked extraordinarily grave as she approached the scene nearly thirty minutes later.

"I'm not that late, am I?" she asked.

"It's the scene," Brass said without so much as a smirk. "It's not good."

"Dispatch said a double… is it a husband and wife?" Sara asked. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Mother and child," Brass answered. "The mom, Josephine, was found dead on her bed. Two-year-old son is in his crib downstairs."

Sara's heart plummeted.

"Any connection to the other case?" she asked.

"I haven't started processing yet," Greg said. "But it has to be more than just a coincidence."

They began making their way into the house. Sara's eyes avoided the living room, carefully concentrating on the flight of stairs in front of her instead.

"Any husband?"

"As far as I know, no," Brass answered. "I haven't gotten around the neighbors yet, but she has no ring on, and there's no pictures of a guy around the house. Looks like a single mother."

The three paused at the doorway to the bedroom. Josephine Garcia was lying on the bed looking like she was used as a human punching bag, her feet and hands tied to the bed's four posts.

"This has to be the same guy," Sara muttered.

"Last victim wasn't tied up," Greg pointed out. "Why'd he have trouble overpowering this one?"

Sara took a moment to contemplate the scene and the victim.

"She's a little more muscular than the last vic," she said slowly. "She could have fought back. And her son was older… maybe he was harder to control too."

"I'm going to go door-to-door," Brass said. "I'll let you know if I find out anything interesting."

"Thanks."

Greg turned towards Sara.

"You want me to take downstairs?"

Sara gave him a grateful look.

"Would you mind?"

"Course not," he said. "You'll be okay up here?"

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks, Greg."

He made his way back downstairs, leaving Sara alone to do her work. She put on gloves and started the systematic process, examining the body first and moving to the bed when she was finished. The sky outside darkened and she became increasingly frustrated as her detailed processing yielded nothing helpful. Just like the Castrova case, no visible or obvious trace evidence was on the body, and again, there were no signs of forced entry. Fleetingly, Sara realized that Josephine Garcia had to have lived no more than ten minutes from the first victim's house. That was it. They _had _to be related.

"Sad, isn't it?"

The strange voice nearly made her jump out of her socks. She turned around to find the tall, lanky CSI from the other day standing at the door.

"It always is," she agreed. "What are you doing here? I thought Swing passed this one off to us."

"We did," he said. "But it's Stokes's night off and Catherine's at another scene, so Ecklie thought you could use a hand."

"Oh," Sara said. "Thanks."

"I'm a CSI-one," he explained. "Putting in some overtime to get more field experience. I'm Ethan Range, by the way."

"Sara Sidle," she said. "Er- Grissom… just call me Sara."

"You're… divorced?" he guessed.

"Married," she corrected, her fingers instinctively feeling for the lump in her pocket that was her wedding ring. She always took it off at scenes; she hated the idea of losing it among the muck of a scene or even marring it from the inside of the gloves.

"Kids?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, wondering if the interrogation was friendly chatter or something else. "A three-month-old son."

"I love kids," Ethan smiled. "What's his name?"

"Aiden."

"Cute. So where do you want me?"

"Well, Greg and I have the two primaries pretty much covered, so take the perimeter, if you can."

"Sure thing. Nice to meet you."

"You, too."

She listened as Ethan made his way back down the stairs, exchanged a few words with Greg and closed the door behind him. She sighed and crouched back down towards the ground, continuing her search of the floor. She peered under the bed and found nothing but a pair of slippers and a balled up piece of paper. She snapped several pictures of it before unearthing it and smoothing it flat. Her eyes widened at the two words that were printed on it.

"Greg," she called, her voice betraying distress. "I got something."

Greg was at the door in a matter of seconds.

"What is it? You okay?"

She handed him the note and Greg's eyes widened before meeting Sara's gaze.

"We've got a serial," he said, handing the note back to Sara.

"And by the looks of it, he's definitely not done yet," she said, glancing at the scribble again.

_That's two._

_

* * *

_**Dun dun duuuuun! :) TBC!**_  
_


	5. Chapter 5

"What do you mean you have nothing?"

Hodges stared at her.

"It means I have nothing."

"There's got to be prints, trace, anything," Sara pleaded.

It was two days after the Garcia scene, and Sara had gotten hopeful waiting on the results from the note, hoping that this time there was something, anything, to go on.

"Sorry," the tech apologized. "There were no prints, not even smudges. No trace. The paper's generic, the ink's generic… there's no way of finding where this note came from."

"What about the handwriting?"

"Sara, you know as well as I do that we need a sample to compare it to," Hodges pointed out. "And as far as I know, you guys have zero suspects."

Sara groaned in frustration as Nick came by with trace from another case.

"You okay?"

"This guy," Sara exclaimed, nearly frantic. "Has killed two young women and two children, for apparently no reason, and we have _nothing_ on him. Not a damn thing! He's going to go on like this, and we're never going to find anything to lead us to him!"

Nick dropped his bagged evidence on the table and put his hands squarely on Sara's shoulders.

"Hey," he said gently. "Don't think like that. There's always something. You're almost off the clock, right? Go home, and let Greg and I take this over. We'll compare the photos from the Castrova case, and see if we can find something to link them."

"I _know_ they're linked, Nick," Sara said, exasperated. "And I'm not going home. I'm not going to be able to sleep knowing this guy is still out there."

"Sara," Nick said firmly. "Go home. See your baby. I have the time to pull triples on this, but you don't. I'll let you know if we find anything."

Sara hesitated.

"Promise?"

Nick smiled.

"Promise."

"Okay," she sighed reluctantly. "Thanks, Nick. And thanks, Hodges."

She turned to walk from the trace lab.

"Hey, Sara?"

She turned around.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get anything," Hodges said with an apologetic look. "Off the note."

Sara couldn't help but smile as his genuine concern. She waved to both of them before walking out of the lab and making her way home. It was a little past eight, Aiden would likely be asleep already, but she'd stop in to kiss him goodnight anyways. She was trying her best not to let these cases get to her, but she couldn't help but feel worried for the safety of her own son, and nothing but holding him in her arms could comfort her. She pulled into the drive and waved to the neighbor, Vince, taking out his trash.

"Hey, Vince."

"Hey, Sara," he nodded. "Long night at work?"

"You have no idea," she said. "Have a good night."

"You too."

Sara crept into the house silently, not wanting to wake Aiden if he was fast asleep. She searched the downstairs for her husband, but he was nowhere to be found. She finally found him in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair she'd fallen asleep in too many times to count, their baby in his arms.

"He just fell asleep," he mouthed, carefully rising from the chair.

He made his way to Sara and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

"You want to take him?"

"No," she said softly, smiling sadly at him. "I don't want to wake him up."

Grissom nodded carefully and laid Aiden on his back in the crib, backing up silently and closing the door behind them.

"You okay, honey?" he asked, stroking her cheek and drawing her close.

Sara nodded, burying her face in the familiar scent and feel of her husband's embrace, already starting to relax. No matter what happened at work, at least there was always something nice to come back to at home.

Grissom obviously didn't believe her, because he kept a firm arm around her waist as they walked to the bedroom, and he sat down next to her on the mattress.

"Tell me about it," he said.

Sara shook her head, not wanting to bring the stress of work home with her.

"Honey," he said gently, encouragingly. "You can talk to me. C'mon, I'll help you relax."

He started to pull off the jacket she'd forgotten to discard downstairs and followed it with her t-shirt. He unbuttoned her pants, wiggled them off her, and laid her down, on her stomach, on the mattress. His hands began to work magic on her lower back, and Sara was surprised to realize how tense her muscles were. They began to instantly loosen at his touch.

"The scene from the other night," she began. "It's definitely linked to the case from last week. This woman was beaten up and then strangled to death, and her two-year-old was found dead downstairs."

Grissom's hands paused on her skin, but he stayed quiet. He unhooked the clasp of her bra and starting working at her upper back and shoulders.

"Greg and I processed every inch of that house," she continued. "Every _inch_. And we didn't find a thing, except for a note. It said, "that's two", and it definitely means he's planning on killing some more. But the note was a dud, too – Hodges couldn't get anything off it."

She paused as Grissom continued his magic massage.

"I'm trying not to let it get to me, Gil, I really am," she said, her voice hitching a little. "But it's so brutal, the way these women died, and the kids…"

She trailed off and Grissom flipped her around, crawling on top of her and giving her a long, deep kiss.

"You can always pull off," he said when they broke apart. "Nick and Greg can handle it."

"But they have other open cases," she countered. "It's going to need all of us if we're going to get this guy… before he hurts anyone else."

Grissom rolled into the pillows and pulled Sara over to him, holding her close.

"You'll get him, Sara," he said. "I have no doubt."

She sighed.

"God, I hope so."

She lay curled against him for the longest time, and at some point, she fell asleep in his arms. She'd never much paid attention to the importance of dreams, but if there were anything to it, she would have to listen to the direction in which her dreams were urging her. Because when she slept that night, she dreamt with the image of Ethan Range's face in her mind.

* * *

**TBC! **

**A/N: **I know this was a little on the short side, but the next chapter is a goodie, so send me a quick review and I'll try to update a.s.a.p!**  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I broke it up because I felt like too much was happening at once. So to make it up to you, I'm posting today, and I cross-my-heart-stick-a-needle-in-my-eye that the next one will be posted Tuesday or Wednesday. Things really pick up this chapter... and they take off next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Just think, it won't be long before Aiden's running around here too."

Sara held her baby a little closer, leaning back into her husband's chest as they watched the kids and toddlers race around the playground.

"And soon enough, he'll be in preschool and then pretty much off to college."

"Don't," Sara laughed, jabbing Grissom with her free elbow. "I want to enjoy his babyhood while I can."

It was the day Aiden turned four months old, and Sara and Grissom had celebrated by going on a walk to the park, the warm April weather attracting all kinds of kids, teenagers and parents to Children's Memorial Park. Sara had the night off, and the prospect of spending the entire night at home together had put them both at ease. Even Hank had joined in on their family outing, barking happily from his seat near Grissom, his leash wrapped around his master's hand.

Grissom reached over and squeezed his wife's hand.

"Should we head back?"

"Can you take him home?" Sara asked. "I want to go for a run when I have the chance, I haven't been out in ages."

"Sure," Grissom said, taking Aiden from Sara's arms and settling him into the carrier. "You ready to go home with daddy, buddy?"

"Can you handle both of them?" Sara asked, nodding at the dog.

Grissom swung the diaper bag onto his shoulder, tucked Sara's bag under his arm, settled the carrier's handle in the crook of his elbow and kept Hank's leash wrapped in his right hand.

"Just call me Super Dad."

Sara laughed and kissed him, fishing her cell from her bag and sticking it into her sweatshirt pocket.

"I won't be long," she said. "I love my boys."

"We love you too, honey."

Grissom made his way to the car and Sara trotted off along the park's path, passing person after person enjoying the spring weather. She didn't have any music, but the sounds of the beautiful day were inspiration enough for her to keep placing one foot in front of the other. It had seemed like years since she'd last run, but she fell into the familiar routine easily, soon working up a sweat and thinking fleetingly of how nice a shower would feel when she got home, with Grissom, preferably.

She paused to stretch out a cramp in her leg, resting one foot on a nearby bench and bending over. Her cell phone trilled from her pocket. She didn't check the number, so instead of answering with her usual professional "Sidle", she let out a cheery "hello!"

"Sara, it's Greg."

"Hey, Gregg-o," she said, holding her left foot to her buttocks to stretch her thigh. "What's shakin?"

"We have another scene."

Sara's heart missed a beat.

"Another…"

"Yeah."

She swallowed hard.

"Where at?"

"Children's Memorial Park."

This time, Sara had to sit down.

"What? Where?"

"In the bathrooms by the playground," Greg said. "How long can it take you to get here?"

"I… I'm here," she said. "At the park, I was here with the boys. I'll… give me ten minutes, Greg."

"Sara, I can call someone else-"

"See you soon."

She snapped her phone shut and took off sprinting, taking the shortcut instead of the long way around and got to Greg, breathless, in eleven minutes. Doc Robbins had obviously just pronounced, as he was packing his things in order to let the CSIs in. Brass was talking to a pale-faced woman who was clutching the hand of an anxious four-year-old girl.

"What happened?" she breathed to Greg.

"Vic is 27-year-old Ashley Taylor," Greg said. "Her ID is in her purse. Brass's witness over there says Ashley was at the park with her daughter and they both went into the bathroom. Witness went in ten, fifteen minutes later and found her."

"Did she see anyone come out?"

Greg shook his head.

"What about the little girl?"

"She's three," Greg said. "No sign of her so far, Brass has already alerted the unit and the media. Sara… you said you were here with Grissom?"

Sara nodded.

"And Aiden," she said. "They went home and I went for a run. We were _just_ here…"

She checked her watch.

"It had to have happened within the hour I was running."

"That fits into the timeline," Greg agreed. "Witness found her pretty quick, and the doc says she bled out pretty quick, dead definitely less than an hour. And Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll want to see this."

She followed him into the bathroom, stepping carefully over the blood pool on the floor to open the door of the third stall. On the wall was a single word, scrawled on with permanent marker.

_Three_.

"Oh, God," Sara muttered, backing away from the scene and running into a body behind her. She turned around, expecting Brass.

"Whoa, there," Ethan Range said. "It's Sara, right?"

"Um, yeah," she said, disoriented.

"Another one, huh?" he said. "You want me to process this one for you?"

She stared at him, confused. She barely knew this guy.

"I just… I know you have a kid," he tried to explain. "Just thought you'd like some reprieve."

Greg joined her at her side.

"Everything okay over here?"

"Oh… yeah," Sara said, grateful for his interruption. "And it's fine, Ethan, I can process the scene. Just, um, see what Brass needs you to do."

Ethan nodded and left and Greg sent her a curious glance.

"Who is that guy?"

"Someone from Swing," Sara said distractedly, pulling off her sweatshirt and pulling on gloves. "Just wants to help."

"I don't want to nag," Greg began. "But you're sure you okay with this one? It's getting awfully close to home. I mean, you and Grissom… it could have been…"

"I know what it could have been," Sara cut him off, unnecessarily crisp. "But it wasn't. Let's just… let's just work the scene."

Greg held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay."

She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Greg," she said. "I know you meant well. It's just… these cases are getting to me and this one is like a punch in the gut. I mean, at a public park?"

Greg nodded.

"It's ballsy," he agreed. "I can't believe no one saw him."

"Brass hasn't finished interviews yet," she pointed out. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Greg crouched over Ashley Taylor, scouring her for evidence as Sara began dusting the walls of the stall for prints. There were dozens.

"Hey, Sara?" Greg interrupted her work.

"Yeah?"

"I think your phone is going off," he said. "From your sweatshirt?"

"Shit," she swore, making her way to the phone. "Grissom doesn't know where I am."

She got to the phone just in time and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Oh, thank God, Sara, I was so worried about you," came her husband's voice.

"I'm so sorry, Gil," she apologized. "I got called into a scene. It's another one."

"Where are you at?"

"Still at the park," she said. "It happened in the bathrooms."

"Oh my God," Grissom said slowly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I wasn't anywhere near them when it happened."

She glanced at Greg, who was immersed in his processing, but turned away from him nevertheless.

"This one makes me nervous, Gil," she said. "I always has this weird feeling that these cases are… connected to me in some way. Women with young children… near to our neighborhood, in our park. And within an hour from when we were here. It's kind of scaring me."

"Come home, honey."

Sara took a deep breath. She wanted to. But for the justice of these women, and their innocent children, she had to stay.

"I'm going to help Greg process," she said. "But I'll be home right after that, I promise."

"Okay," Grissom agreed. "But call me when you leave, and if you're late, I'm sending a search squad out for you."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too, Sara."

She ended the call and walked back to her scene, starting to dust the toilet.

"Anything?" she asked Greg.

"Notta," he said, disappointed.

"Greg," she called, her voice a little excited. "I got a partial on the toilet seat."

Greg's head perked up.

"Who touches the seat in a woman's bathroom?"

"Someone trying to stand up after killing someone?"

She examined the partial. They'd gotten a hit off of less. Had they finally gotten lucky?

"Maybe," Greg said, his voice excited too.

"Got something?"

The voice came from the door. It wasn't Brass, but Ethan again.

"Possibly," Sara said coyly before turning to Greg. "Make it a priority at the lab?"

"You got it," he said.

"That looks promising," Ethan cut in.

"I can only hope."

"You going home?" Greg asked her.

"I think so," she sighed. "Will you be okay?"

"We'll be fine," he said, waving her off. "Nick's on his way in to help me process this stuff. We'll hopefully have a suspect by morning."

"Fingers crossed," Sara said. "Keep me updated?"

"As always."

She waved goodbye to him and Ethan and nearly sped the distance home, anxious to kiss Grissom and hold Aiden. She waved to Vince the neighbor, but skipped the usual greeting, eager to get inside. But this time, Vince called out to her.

"I heard about the Memorial Park thing," he said. "Sounds bad."

"It was," she said. "How'd you hear about it?"

"The little girl's on the news," he said sadly. "She reminds me of my niece. I hope they find her."

"Me too," Sara said. "Have a good night, Vince."

"You too, Sara."

She pulled open the door and was relieved to find Grissom waiting there for her. She collapsed into his arms and was surprised to find herself crying. Grissom apparently, was not, because he said nothing, only held her tighter, stroked her back and pressed kisses to her hair.

"It's okay, honey."

"No," she sobbed. "It's not. These women… god, Gil, this guy… he's a monster, and… and…"

"Shh," Grissom soothed her. "Don't think about it. You're safe. Aiden's safe. You're going to get this guy this time. I can feel it."

Sara actually brightened through her tears.

"We got a print," she choked. "I totally forgot – a partial from the toilet seat, it's got to be his!"

"See?" Grissom encouraged. "Seriously, you'll have him in no time and it'll all be over soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he said. "C'mon, honey. Let's give Aiden a bath, put him down and then we can snuggle up in bed with a movie. How's that sound?"

Sara took a deep breath and used the back of her hand to wipe her mascara-smudged eyes.

"Beautiful."

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**TBC!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **It was great to hear from some new reviewers last chapter! And thanks so much to those of you who have been reviewing all along - you make my day! For the rest of you reading, shoot me a note! I love hearing what you think.

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"Feeling better, dear?"

Grissom woke her up with a kiss.

"Much better, now."

"Someone's here to say hi."

Sara fully unearthed herself from the comforter and saw Aiden on Grissom's hip. He handed him to her.

"Oh, hi, baby," she said, taking him into her arms and kissing him. She beamed up at Grissom. "Much, _much _better now. How long did I sleep?"

"Long enough for me to make some breakfast," Grissom said. "Come and eat, and then it's you and the little man all day, I have to go in for student conferences. Are you working tonight?"

"Not unless Catherine calls," Sara said, hoisting Aiden on her hip as she slid out of bed.

"Good," Grissom said as he pressed a kiss on her head. "I think you could use the night off."

"Agreed."

They made their way into the kitchen where the smell of eggs and toast greeted them.

"What are you two going to get up to today?"

"I don't know," Sara said, leaning over to Aiden's highchair to tickle him. "Maybe run a few errands. We're low on groceries."

"Well, I have to be off," Grissom said. "First conference at ten. Love you."

"Love you. Say bye to Daddy, baby."

Aiden gurgled and Grissom laughed.

"Love you too, buddy."

Sara ate the last scraps of her toast as Grissom shut the front door behind him, and she forwent a shower, keeping a careful eye on Aiden as she dressed. She carried him to the car, both of them dressed in a light windbreaker since the afternoon was growing warm, waved hello to Vince the neighbor and strapped Aiden into his car seat. She transferred him into his carrier in the parking lot of the grocery store, commencing their shopping. Organic milk, dog food, a new stockpile of diapers, bread and peanut butter, all of which they seemed to go through like water. She was rounding the aisle into the produce section when her grocery cart nearly ran into another coming the opposite way.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking – oh! Um, hi."

Ethan Range grinned back at her.

"Hey, Sara. Day off?"

"I work nights, but, yeah," she replied. "You?"

"I'm supposed to be in in an hour or two," he said. "But I realized I was out of just about everything."

"Same."

"Is this your son? He's adorable."

"Yeah, this is Aiden," Sara said, smiling as she always did when she spoke of her baby. "And thanks. Say hi, baby."

"All this stuff going on around the area must keep you worried about him."

"Yeah," Sara admitted, leaning over the shopping cart so Aiden could grab her finger. "But we keep a pretty close eye on him. He's got a protective dad."

"And mom," Ethan added.

Sara nodded at him, unsure of what to say next.

"So… see you at work?" he asked. "Hopefully not with another… you know."

"Yeah. See you around."

Ethan maneuvered his cart around them, but paused at the head of the bread aisle.

"Hey," he called. "Be careful out there. I wouldn't want to see anything happen to such a cute kid."

Sara gave him a forced smile and gathered her produce groceries with distraction. She and Aiden had a pleasant ride home, unloaded the groceries, and by the time they were playing on his mat, she had forgotten all about her encounter with Ethan. She started cooking Grissom his favorite lasagna for when he returned home and when he finally walked through the front door, he found his wife with a smile on her face and a fed and bathed baby in her arms.

"How's my favorite girl?"

"Happy to see you," Sara grinned, kissing him.

"And my favorite boy?"

"Ready for Dad to put him to bed," she said. "Mom's going to finish up dinner."

Grissom kissed her on the nose and reached for Aiden, who was making more gurgling noises at him.

"Sounds like a plan."

He disappeared upstairs for a half hour or so and when he returned, Sara put a glass of red wine in his hand, but he set it on the counter immediately, putting his hands on Sara's waist instead. He drew her nearer and kissed her, inching his fingers just a few inches into Sara's jeans as the force of her kiss backed him over the counter. He nuzzled his newly re-grown beard against the side of her neck, and she giggled like she always did at the touch. He started to trail kisses down her chest and she let out a small sigh of pleasure. He started to tug at the button of her jeans, but she pulled away, just slightly.

"Hey," she said, placing one finger on his chest and pushing back with a light pressure. "Dinner first. Dessert later."

"It smells so good."

Sara scooped a large portion and a smaller one on two plates and sat next to Grissom at the table, his hand on her knee the minute she was seated. He was grinning at her.

"What?"

"We're just… such a little family," he said. "I love it."

"I love _you_."

"Duly noted," he said.

"How were conferences?"

Grissom recounted the frustrations and jubilations of his students over dinner - about how one student named Ryan could be such a promising CSI if only he would stop staring at the girls while in class and completely ignoring Grissom's lectures. He talked about how one girl had started the semester getting C's and D's, but after their conference today, she promised to work harder.

"A little bit of her reminds me of you," he smiled. "Not the grade bit - I'm fairly certain you were always a straight A student - but the determination bit. She's got a fire in her. I'm excited to see her improve."

Sara shared her and Aiden's adventures during dishes, their trip to the grocery store and their subsequent stop at the mall to buy herself a new pair of running shoes, and how Aiden was gawked over by a group of older women who called him "the most adorable baby in the world". She told him how Aiden was swaying in time with the music she played in the car on their way home and how he almost-kinda-sorta winked at her while playing earlier. She told him how, as she loaded her arms with grocery bags and he sat in his carrier on the sidewalk, Aiden was fascinated by a bee buzzing around him.

"He's your son through and through," she laughed. "If he starts chasing bugs by the time he learns to walk like you did, I'm just going to start calling him Gil Jr."

She wiped the last fork and handed it to Grissom to put away, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as a reward. He dropped it into the silverware drawer and turned to wrap his arms around her, his hands feeling the strength of her back.

"I'm going to go for a quick run before bed," she said into his ear, knowing he would protest.

"Sara-"

"Just around the block a few times," she pressed. "I want to break in my new shoes... I'll be back before you know it. It felt so good the other day. You know, before… but it clears my mind."

"Okay," Grissom agreed. "But take your cell and promise to make it quick."

"Promise. I'll be back before you can even miss me."

"Doubt it!" Grissom called down the hall as she pulled on her running shoes and grabbed a jacket and her iPod.

On the stoop, Sara pushed the buds of her headphones into her ears and started up her running mix, on loud, so it would drown out the rest of her worries. Her mind eased the moment her shoes began hitting the pavement, and she found a comfortable rhythm as she started down the street. Passing Vince's house, she turned at the streetlight on the corner, letting the music and feel of her feet on the sidewalk take over. She thought about her family; her sweet baby boy who never failed to make her smile, and her husband, who never failed to make her feel special. She smiled at the thought of spending the night wrapped up in sheets with Grissom, and she pushed herself to run a little harder to get back home faster. The rhythm of her running and the comfort of her thoughts put her in an easy trance.

She was so absorbed, the punch that collided with her face and knocked her onto the grass came out of absolutely nowhere.

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**TBC! Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Over and over, knuckles made contact with her face, arms and stomach. She tried to scream, but the attacker had one gloved hand over her mouth as he punched her with the other. She tried to throw him off, but he was heavy, the full weight of him pressing on her chest as he pinned her down. Her vision was blurry and she could taste blood in her mouth, but she wasn't sure if it was coming from his punches or because she was biting her tongue so hard. She couldn't get a good look at him, but she could tell that he was definitely male. Probably with dark hair. Another fist collided with her face before she could make note of anything else.

Fleetingly, she wondered if anyone would be around to help her, but the neighborhood habitually grew quiet around 9 p.m. She was beginning to think the worst when all of a sudden, the beatings ceased and the attacker relieved a little of his weight on her chest to lean forward.

"Stop following me," a gruff voice emphasized. "Or you're next."

And with that, he disappeared, leaving a linger scent of cigarette smoke and bad body odor. Sara tried to move after him, tried to move at all, but every part of her body screamed in protest when she tried. Each of her limbs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds, and her head was throbbing. She tried to scream, to make a noise, but he had knocked the wind out of her so badly, she could barely muster a weak whimper. She could do nothing but lay there and hope that someone, anyone, would find her sometime soon. She was sure that eventually, once she didn't return home, Gil would come out looking for her, but she was in pain and wanted to get home as soon as possible. She wriggled on the pavement as best she could, trying to see if her cell was still attached to the clip on her pants, but it had been knocked off.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

Her entire body flooded with relief at the words. She tried moving her lips for several moments, but she couldn't get sounds to come out. Whoever found her, her vision was still blurry, knelt beside her and poured some water in her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.

"I need help... getting home," she managed to say.

"Sara?"

"Ethan?"

She recognized his voice, and she was just barely able to make him out though the darkness.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you. What happened?"

"I was jumped," she said curtly. "What... are you doing here?"

Despite needing desperate help, she felt uncomfortable being alone with Ethan, especially after what he said earlier and how quickly he arrived just now. She listened for any signs of someone else approaching them, but she heard nothing but the soft chirping of the nighttime bugs.

"Out running… who did this to you?"

"Just get me home. Please."

He put an arm behind her back and helped her to her feet, holding her stable.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so," she said. "But I think my wrist is sprained. He tackled me pretty hard."

Her head was pounding and the dark made it difficult to see Ethan clearly. She directed him down the few streets she had made it past and limped her way to the door.

"Do you want me to bring you in?" he asked her.

"My husband's home," she said. "I'll be okay."

"Okay," he agreed. "Go see a doctor. And report this."

"I will," she told him. "Hey, uh… thanks."

"I'm just glad I found you. Rest up, Sara."

She limped through the front door and pressed her back against it once inside. Grissom was on the couch watching television, but he leapt up when he saw the state of her.

"Holy… oh my _god_," he said, coming to her side in an instant. "Honey, oh my god, what happened? Are you okay?"

She wanted to fold into his open arms, but was afraid it would hurt too much. Every inch of her body was pulsing painfully.

"I was attacked," she managed, breathing heavily and holding her hand out to the wall to stabilize her. "A few streets over. I don't know who it was but… Gil, I think…"

"What is it, honey?"

His eyes swept over her, but he kept his hands off her for now, the criminalist in him screaming to not tamper any evidence. She took a deep breath.

"I think it was the guy," she said. "_Our _guy. The one who's been attacking the mothers and kids…"

"How do you know, Sara?"

"He said… he said, 'stop following me, or you're next'."

"Can you… honey, can you identify him?"

She shook her head, her eyes tearing up.

"I couldn't see… and he was wearing a mask."

"Okay," Grissom said, trying to be logical. "Okay, I'm going to call Jim. He'll come here to get your statement… someone will process you, and then we'll figure out what to do about this. Okay?"

It seemed like no sooner had Sara had said 'okay' that Brass was at the door looking as worried and as anxious as Grissom. She'd spent the entire time it took for him to get there arguing with her husband, trying to convince him to let her go upstairs and see her son. He tried everything from 'he's sleeping' to 'Jim'll be here any minute' until 'Sara, the trace on you might be the only thing to nail this guy. You want to get him, right?' worked. And after several assurances that Aiden was upstairs, safe, and proof in the form of his slow, light breathing coming from the baby monitor, she relented.

When Brass entered the house, Catherine was on his heels.

"God, Sara, are you okay?" he asked.

"Who did this to you?" Catherine added.

Brass held up a hand to stop her.

"You process her, I'll ask the questions," he said. "Are you ready to give your statement, kiddo?"

"Best do it while it's fresh," Sara said. "And yeah, I'm okay."

"Thank God," Brass breathed. "What do you remember about what happened?"

"I was jogging in the neighborhood," Sara started as Catherine began tape-lifting her clothes. "I'd just passed the corner with the streetlight… took a left, I think, and out of nowhere, someone was tackling me to the ground."

Catherine took Sara's shaking hand in her own gloved one, and started scraping for trace under her nails.

"You probably won't find anything," Sara told her. "I tried, but he was gloved and masked, I don't think I ever got a clean swipe at skin."

Catherine nodded and continued her processing.

"I couldn't get much Jim, he was all over me," Sara went on. Grissom looked sick to his stomach. "He was definitely male. Low, gruff voice. Brown hair, I think, or maybe black. Smelled like smoke. He just… took me to the ground and started beating the heck out of me."

"What did he say to you?"

Sara made brief eye contact with Grissom and took another deep breath before continuing.

"He told me, if I didn't stop following him, I'd be next."

Catherine nearly dropped her camera at these words.

"He didn't."

"It's gotta be our guy, Cath," Sara said. "Why else would he threaten me?"

"But why you?" Catherine asked. "I've been working the case too, as has Nick and Greg. Why'd he target you?"

"Sara fits his profile," Grissom said, speaking finally but so softly that everyone second-guessed that he'd said anything at all. "Young woman, dark hair, young child. He caught her at a vulnerable moment, like the others. We're lucky nothing worse happened."

"Is that all you can remember?" Brass asked quietly.

"I think so," Sara said, near to tears again. "I'm so sorry. I should have gotten more. I was just… he just…"

"I know," Catherine intercepted, with a soft hand on her shoulder. "You did well, Sara. I'm done if you are, Jim."

Brass nodded.

"You should get to the hospital, kiddo," he said. "Get checked out."

"I'm fine," Sara said distractedly. "I just want to see my baby."

"Sara, honey, he's right," Grissom cut in. "You need to get checked out. I'll take you over there now."

"No, Gil, it's okay," Catherine said. "I'll take her, on the way to drop off the evidence. Someone needs to stay with Aiden, and I'm sure Sara would feel better if it was you."

Sara contemplated this and slowly nodded.

"But you'll go?" Grissom prompted. "To the hospital?"

"I'll go," she relented. "I'll be back soon."

"I should take your clothes," Catherine said, handing her an evidence bag. "Put them in here for me, and we'll be on our way."

Grissom followed her to the bedroom and watched her as she changed, slowly, as if in a trace. He didn't say a word until she walked up to him, evidence bag in hand, and her face already sporting a large bruise under several bleeding cuts.

"Take good care of him, okay?" she whispered.

"I won't let him out of my sight," Grissom replied, his hand softy pushing back her hair. "I want to be with you, but…"

"It's best to keep him here," she finished. "I know. I won't be long."

"And we'll be right here waiting. Catherine will take good care of you."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Sara. You're sure you're okay?"

Sara nodded, Grissom kissed her, and followed her to the front door where she left with Catherine. Left alone, Jim turned to face Grissom.

"You think your family's being targeted?" he asked.

"It sure looks that way," Grissom replied. "Trying to scare Sara off the case. Scare all of you off the case."

"Well, that won't happen," Brass said firmly. "We'll place an officer at your door around the clock if we need to, but hopefully something from Sara will help us get him before that's necessary."

"I don't know," Grissom said sadly. "I saw the look on Catherine's face as she was processing Sara. It doesn't look like she was getting any more from her than you guys got off the last three victims."

"This guy is smart."

"Scary smart."

"Are you worried?"

Grissom breathed in deeply.

"For Sara? Yes," he said. "I always worry about her. For Aiden? Well, we'll keep him close so nothing can happen."

"And for yourself?"

"I'm more concerned about my family, Jim."

"Never thought I'd see the day," Brass joked.

Grissom tried to force a smile.

"We'll take care of things, Gil," Brass said, more seriously. "And I'll bring Sara home when she's finished at the hospital."

"Thanks."

"Try not to worry too much."

"I'll give it a shot."

With mutually exchanged goodbyes, Brass left and the house seemed extraordinarily empty. Grissom found himself instantly wishing he'd gone with Sara for moral support, but he knew that with his son was where he needed to be right now. He took the stairs two at a time and opened the nursery door to reveal the swirling blue light coming from the wall above Aiden's crib. His son was snuggled against his baby blanket, a tiny, beautiful smile still lingering on his lips as his chest heaved up and down in deep sleep. He wanted to hold his son to his chest, but in fear of waking him, left him sleeping in the crib. He instead settled himself into the rocking chair in the corner that Sara occupied so much that it almost smelled like her. At some point, Hank padded in and took a seat at Grissom's feet. He was grateful for the company. He knew he wouldn't sleep, but he spent the next few hours rocking back and forth, never taking his eyes off his sleeping baby son and anxiously waiting for his wife to return.

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**TBC!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **I spent the weekend largely ignoring a midterm paper to work on the ending to this story. I do this a lot. I'm either a really bad student or a really dedicated writer ... most likely both. Anyways, it looks like there'll be eleven chapters with an epilogue... so twelve total.

Thanks for all your reviews, they make my day! (Seriously, they do.)

* * *

"He's making this way too personal."

Nick and Greg were seated in the two armchairs flanking the couch, upon which sat Sara and Grissom. Aiden was on Sara's lap, happily gumming on a plastic ring.

"Do you want protection?" Nick asked. "We can talk to Brass…"

"He already offered," Grissom said gratefully. "But we think as long as Sara physically stays away from the lab, there's no reason for him to attack us further."

"Do you have _any _idea who it could be?" Greg asked, his face as full of concern as it was when he arrived.

"No," Grissom answered honestly. Sara paused.

"Sara?"

"I have no proof," she disclaimed. "I just have a… hunch."

"For this case, we'll go on anything," Nick encouraged. "What are you thinking?"

"You never got any hits on the partial from the bathroom stall, right?"

"Right," Greg confirmed.

"I know it was a little smudged to get a hit in IAFIS," Sara said. "But have Mandy clean it up a little and compare it specifically to Ethan Range's prints."

"Ethan Range?" Greg repeated, the name sounding familiar. "The new guy on Swing?"

"Why him, Sara?" Nick asked.

"Did he do anything to you?" Grissom asked, more agitated.

"Not directly," Sara assured him. "But he acts so… strange. These cases are all Grave's, and yet, he shows up at every scene saying Ecklie sent him. I talked to Ecklie last week, and he said no such thing."

She paused, trying to remember if she'd ever seen Ethan smoke, remembering the lingering scent at the scene of her attack. For the life of her, she couldn't remember.

"Why don't I know this guy?" Nick asked while she thought.

"Tall, skinny," Greg described. "Kind of shifty looking?"

"What else, Sara?" Grissom pressed.

"Well, he was always way too interested when we found evidence," she continued. "And I ran into him once, at the grocery store and he said something weird to me."

"He lives near here?" Grissom exclaimed, clearly alarmed.

Aiden peered up at his father, surprised by the sudden loud noise. Grissom smiled and stroked his son's cheek to reassure him and Aiden went back to gnawing on his toy.

"What did he say, Sara?" Nick asked gently.

"He told me to be careful out there," Sara answered. "And that he'd hate to see something happen to a cute kid like Aiden."

The three men sitting near her seemed to have lost all ability to speak.

"That's not all," Sara continued, reluctant to reveal the next part. "He was the one who found me in the park the other day."

"Oh my God," Grissom said. "I never did ask you how you got home… oh, honey…"

"He sounds suspicious enough for me," Nick concluded.

"Well, Range or not, whoever did this to you is definitely our guy," Greg said.

"Will you run the prints for me?" Sara asked. "Don't tell anyone – we have no proof that it's Ethan."

"We'll be careful," Greg said. "And we'll keep you updated."

"How are you feeling, anyways?" Nick put in.

It was three days after Sara's attack and she hadn't set foot in the lab since it happened. Nick, Greg, Catherine and Brass came by on a rotating schedule to keep them both informed on the progress of the case. Grissom was right in his guess that Catherine had gotten little to no trace off of Sara that night. And they had gotten no further with the evidence from the other cases to link someone, anyone, to the murders.

"Better," she said. "The bruises are less sensitive. It's really just my wrist now."

As if he understood, Aiden reached over to play with the Velcro straps of Sara's wrist brace.

"Careful, buddy," Grissom warned, gently pushing his son's tiny hand away.

"He's okay," Sara reassured with a grateful smile. She addressed the two CSIs again. "Have you gotten any further on the daughter from the Taylor case?"

"She seems to have up and disappeared," Nick said. "We can't find a trace of her, body or otherwise."

"It's as frustrating as everything else in this case," Greg muttered.

Grissom could tell this serial was taking a toll on his former team. The extra layer of stress Sara's attack had added left both young men with constant expressions of worry on their usually cheerful faces. Catherine seemed so grim yesterday, she was almost beyond the point of recognition.

"Do you think he's doing it for a reason?" Grissom asked. "Prove a point? Or is it just… random? Because he wants to?"

"Honestly," Nick began. "We have no idea. I haven't seen a killer this meticulous in years. I feel like I haven't slept more than two hours in weeks."

"Speaking of," Greg said, turning to Sara. "Are you sleeping okay? I know I sure didn't when I turned into a human punching bag."

"I'm sleeping okay."

Sara shrugged and Greg glanced at Grissom as if looking for confirmation. Grissom gave him a small smile and lifted his head a bit, validating Sara's statement, even though he knew better. Sara had never been a restful sleeper, but she had been tossing and turning more than usual since the start of this serial, and even more so since her attack in the park. She woke up in a cold sweat yesterday, but Grissom wasn't about to tell that to Greg.

"Man, this case has got me thinking if this job's even worth it," Nick said, shaking his head at the floor. "I mean, we've got all our noses to the grindstone trying to find this guy, but he just keeps on killing. What's the point?"

"I know the feeling," Sara said, offering him a comforting smile.

"You guys will get him," Grissom assured. "I have full confidence in you."

His words didn't seem to brighten their spirits. In fact, the only joyful one in the room seemed to be the baby on Sara's lap. The plastic ring he was gumming on fell to the floor and he squealed his dislike. Nick smiled and picked it up from the floor, handing it back to the baby.

"Sometimes I still can't believe you have a baby, Sara," he said.

"Really?" Sara laughed. "How come?"

"I don't know," Nick replied. "I feel like it happened so fast and then, boom, there was Aiden. I have to keep reminding myself that he's yours and not just some stray that you're babysitting."

"You're not a stray, are you?" Sara cooed into Aiden's ear.

"Don't feel bad," Greg said to Nick. "After they got married, I didn't truly believe it for months afterward."

"Yeah," Sara put in. "He kept saying I got my ring from a vending machine."

Grissom put his hand over his heart, acting insulted.

"I'm offended!"

"Just teasing, Griss, just teasing," Greg laughed. "It's a beautiful ring."

He winked at Sara as she lifted Aiden into the air. Aiden immediately abandoned his plastic ring in order to giggle at the funny faces his mother was pulling at him. Greg, Nick and Grissom couldn't help but smile as they watched her settle him back against her chest.

"Well, I know at least one thing for sure," Greg grinned. "I have the cutest godson in town."

"He's gonna be a freakin' heartbreaker," Nick agreed.

Simultaneously, both Nick and Greg's pagers beeped. Their smiles transformed into looks of shock, which immediately got both Sara and Grissom's attention.

"What is it?"

"We have a new witness," Nick said in disbelief.

"Who?" Sara asked anxiously.

"Ashley Taylor's three-year-old daughter, Olivia," Greg answered.

Sara gaped at him.

"They found her? Alive?"

"And apparently unharmed," Greg said. "She's at P.D. now."

"We'll fill you in," Nick promised as he grasped Sara's hands.

In seconds, both men were out the door and headed towards their cars. Sara turned to her husband, holding Aiden with her good arm.

"How in the world did that little girl make it out alive?"

"I don't know," Grissom said, obviously equally dumbfounded. "But she's a little miracle, and she may just be the key we needed."

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**TBC!**


	10. Chapter 10

"Sidle."

Sara was perched on the kitchen counter and, despite her husband making train noises as he tried to feed their son cooked carrots across the room, she answered the phone without a hint of a giggle.

"It's me."

"Greg! How's the girl?"

"Apparently, perfectly fine. We have no idea how she got away, but apparently, she wandered around until a retired Hispanic woman who speaks three words of English found her, kept her in hopes a parent would come for her and finally brought her to the police."

"Wow, she was lucky."

"You're telling me."

"Did she help us get any closer to who did this?"

"Of course not," Greg sighed. "That would be much too easy for this case. Apparently, the retired woman was a retired nanny, and she knew how to care for a child. Bathed her every day, and washed away any hint of evidence that could have been on her."

"Any luck with the partial?"

"I compared it to Range's when Catherine was processing Olivia," Greg said. "No luck, it's not a match."

Sara couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. So much for woman's intuition.

"We're still going to run it through IAFIS, though, so I'll keep you updated with that."

"Thanks, Greg."

"Hey, did you realize that partial had traces of motor oil in it?"

"Like the trace from the Castrova case?"

"Hodges compared them, and they were a perfect match," Greg said. "Still generic oil, but at least we know the guy is one and the same."

"Thanks for everything, Greg."

"No problem," he replied. "Give my godson a kiss for me."

Sara snapped the phone shut with a sigh.

"No new leads?" Grissom guessed.

"Nothing," Sara huffed, sliding off the counter, grabbing a wet towel and wiping the smeared carrots off her son's face. "You know, this is one guy that might actually get away."

"Don't say that," Grissom warned. "The minute you give up is the minute he wins."

"I know," Sara sighed. "I just can't think of a _thing_ that'll help us get this guy."

"He's bound to mess up sometime," Grissom said. "They usually do."

"Usually, we have at least one suspect by now."

"Are you going in tonight?"

Sara stayed silent a moment as she watched Aiden gum on another bite of carrots.

"I don't think so," she concluded. "I want to stay home tonight."

"Good," Grissom said. "I think you should stay home, too. And I've got another consulting meeting… it shouldn't take long, but with this guy, you never know. He talks like there's no tomorrow."

"What time will you be home do you think?"

"Eleven?" Grissom guessed. "Eleven thirty?"

Sara reached out with her good arm and stroked her husband's cheek softly.

"I was hoping to spend the night here with you," she said quietly.

"Oh, Sara," Grissom said. "Don't say that, or I'll call and cancel the meeting right here and now."

"Please?"

Grissom sighed.

"I can't. But wait up for me, if you can. I'll try to make it fast."

"Okay," Sara agreed.

She let her gaze drop down to her son, who was smearing the rest of the carrots around the tray of his highchair. He looked up at her with his wide eyes, smashed more carrots against his chubby cheeks and continued his artistic masterpiece. She smiled at him absently until she felt a hand on her cheek.

"Hey," Grissom said quietly. "You okay?"

She looked up at him and smiled again.

"Yeah," she said, equally soft. "I was just thinking that even though I'm really glad Ashley Taylor's daughter is okay, she's going to grow up without any parents. She's only three… she probably won't remember a thing about them. It's just sad."

Grissom said nothing, only pulling his wife towards him and holding her tightly, relishing the scent of her, even if it was mixed in with cooked carrots.

"At least I knew my parents," she murmured into his shoulder. "For better or for worse."

They pulled apart and Grissom looked into her eyes, obviously concerned.

"Maybe it's time you leave CSI," he said as Sara opened her mouth to protest. "And for good this time. I don't want you getting burnt out again."

"I'm not," Sara reassured, her hand stroking his beard. "I promise. I'm just… a little sad."

From his highchair, Aiden dropped his plastic spoon to the floor with a clatter and a squeal of delight. Sara couldn't help but laugh.

"But I shouldn't be," she grinned. "Not with this little guy around."

She pressed a kiss to the top of his head as her phone rang again from the counter. She went to it, pressing it to her ear.

"Sidle."

"Sara, it's Nick," the voice on the other line said. "We might need you tonight after all. We're about to process what little evidence we got off the girl, Olivia, and Catherine says she anticipates needing another body here tonight. She's still on her own case."

Sara sighed.

"All right. I'll be in soon."

Grissom looked at her quizzically.

"You're… going in?"

"Nick says they need me," she replied, a little exasperated. "The one night I want to stay home…"

"Is it necessary?"

"They might get new leads off the little girl," she said. "I want to be there when they do."

"You're sure that's a good idea?"

She smiled at his concern.

"I'll be okay," she said. "You can drop me off on the way to your meeting, and Nick or Greg will take me home. Under watchful eyes at all times."

"You better be," Grissom nodded, only half teasing. "We'll need a sitter for Aiden."

"Well, Nick, Greg and Catherine are all working," Sara said, ticking off the names of their usual babysitters. "Brass too. Your mother?"

Grissom glanced at the kitchen clock skeptically.

"It's nearly nine," he said. "She'll probably be heading off to bed soon, and she definitely won't be awake until I get home from the meeting. What about Joyce and Adam, from next door?"

"They're on vacation," Sara sighed. "Florida."

They sat in silence, trying to think of any one else who would be available.

"What about the our other neighbor?" Grissom suggested.

"Vince?"

"I don't know him that well," Grissom said. "Do you?"

"Not well," Sara admitted. "But he's always friendly when I see him. And he has a niece, he's got to be good with kids."

"Give him a call," Grissom prompted. "We're running short on options."

Thank God Vince was a bachelor with not much to do on a Saturday night. He was over in minutes of Sara's phone call. She explained Aiden's bedtime routine in a rush of breath, and Vince nodded again and again that he understood. Aiden was already calm in his arms, but she left a list of emergency contact numbers just in case.

"This one's my cell, and the next one is Gil's," she said. "Call us anytime if you need something. The other numbers are his godparents, but they'll be at work too. Worse comes to worse, if you can't get a hold of any of us, call Gil's mother, she's the bottom number."

"Sara," Vince laughed. "We'll be fine. Look, I already got him half asleep."

Sara beamed at her baby, kissed him on the forehead, and with one last thanks to Vince, she and Grissom were out the door.

"Hey," Sara greeted Nick when she walked into the lab. "Find anything yet?"

"Greg got a hair," Nick said excitedly. "Twisted in the girl's shoelace. It's too short to belong to her or the mother, not dark enough to belong to her fill-in sitter. Might be his. It's priority in DNA."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Process her clothes with me?" Nick asked. "It's unlikely, but you never know what other evidence could have survived."

"Lead the way."

Sara followed him to the nearest evidence room, where little Olivia's clothes were already laid out. Sara took her tiny t-shirt as Nick ran a magnifying glass over the child-sized pair of jeans.

"What'll happen to her now?" Sara asked. "Olivia. Does she have any other family?"

"Not that Brass has found," Nick replied, a little sadly. "Ashley Taylor was another single mother, and it looks like her parents passed away a long time ago."

"Probably get put into the foster system," Sara remarked, a little cynically.

Nick tilted his head to raise an eyebrow at her.

"What do-"

"Nick. Sara."

Greg interrupted them from the doorway, breathless and panting, papers clutched in his hand.

"We have a suspect."

"What?" Sara exclaimed. "Who?"

"How?" Nick put in.

"Mandy finally cleaned up the partial from the toilet enough to run it through IAFIS," Greg explained hastily. "She got a hit."

"Who is it?"

"Vincent Malone, ex-Marine," Greg said, handing a photo to Nick. "And get this, he was a Marine mechanic. What are the odds he still tinkers with cars in his spare time?"

"Looks like this is our guy," Nick agreed, handing the photo to Sara.

As she took it, it felt like her heart gained a hundred pounds and suck straight to her feet. She was staring at a picture of Vincent Malone, who she knew as neighbor Vince.

Neighbor Vince, who was currently watching her four-month-old baby boy.

* * *

**TBC!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I'm evil, I know. Thanks for not throwing rocks at me with the way I left that last chapter. I hope I come through unscathed after this.

Only the epilogue to go!

* * *

"Sara, slow down."

She was tearing through the lab at a break-neck pace, not even really knowing where she was trying to go. Her mind was racing in too many directions at once. Part of her wanted to jump in her car and search the neighborhood for Vince herself, if he wasn't still at their house, which he most likely wasn't. Part of her wanted nothing more than to call Grissom and hear his voice, as if that would make everything better. Another part of her wanted to get to Brass and force him to get every officer in the city of Las Vegas, heck, in the state of Nevada, out to look for Vince. And her baby.

Her baby.

"Sara," Greg called from a few paces behind her. "What is going on?"

She whipped around.

"This man," she said frantically, waving his picture. "Is my neighbor. My neighbor, who is currently babysitting my son."

"Oh my-"

"He has Aiden, Greg," she said, her voice catching. "He has him."

"Hold up, Sara," Nick tried to rationalize. "We don't know anything yet. Aiden might be home, perfectly fine."

"Because Vince left those other two kids perfectly fine?" Sara screamed at him, hysterical. "Those three other mothers? He attacked me the other night, Nick. He saw me leave, and followed me. He knows I have a child."

Sara's anger dissolved into total fear in an instant. She sunk to the ground, shuddering against the wall.

"What if he… oh my god…"

Nick knelt down to put a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Let's figure out what we know first, okay, honey?" he said comfortingly. "Let's…"

Sara swung into attack mode again.

"Call the house, just to make sure," she instructed Nick before turning to Greg. "You call Grissom. Get him here as soon as possible. I'm going home."

Nick and Greg both whipped out their phones, following her instructions and following her down the hall.

"We should have an officer go with you, Sara," Nick said as he listened to the ring of Sara and Grissom's home phone. "At least Brass-"

"Grissom? It's Greg," the other man was saying on the phone. "You need to get here… _now_."

Their speed walking had taken them to the reception desk, and the visitor talking to Judy there made them all stop short.

"Well, hello," he said.

His greeting was met with stares and silence.

"I've… decided to turn myself in," Vince said. "I've had all the fun I need. Why be greedy?"

"You son of a-"

Nick seized Sara's waist not a second too late, pulling her away from the man she was so desperately lunging at.

"Where is he, you bastard?" she cried, struggling against Nick's muscular arms. Greg tried to catch one of her flailing arms, hoping that if he could grab one, he could squeeze it tightly and try to calm her down. "Where is my baby?"

The CSIs of the Las Vegas Grave shift had seen some pretty nasty people in their day. Serial killers, child molesters, abusive husbands and some who were all of the above. They'd dealt with their share of spiteful suspects. Had heard their share of foul insults and been on the receiving end of some truly evil glares. But nothing, _nothing_ compared to the look on Vince Malone's face as he was handcuffed, as he threw his head back and laughed like it was the best day of his life. Sprouted tears of joy as he saw Sara's tears of horror and allowed Brass to lead him away like he was being taken to sit on a velvet cushion. Nothing could comfort the shaking woman in Nick's arms, who was sinking to the floor, screaming and crying at the same time, her worst nightmare becoming real, hurting more than she could have possibly imagined it could hurt.

* * *

"Where is he?"

Brass was usually, most of the time, able to control his rage in interrogation. But this was different. It was a wonder that Ecklie was allowing him to do Vince's questioning, although Brass would have thrown the rulebook to the wind if he'd refused. He was alone in the room with Vince and his hands were positively shaking with anger. He would have rung the sonufabitch's neck right then and there if he didn't need something important from him first.

He pounded his fist on the table.

"Where is the child?"

Vince was silent, as he'd been for the last ten minutes. The laughs he had maliciously laughed at reception had been the last sounds he'd made. He showed no signs of cracking, and worse, no signs of remorse. This guy was seriously cold-hearted. Behind the window of the interrogation room, Catherine, Nick, Greg, Sara and Grissom stood huddled. Sara was a limp pile of nerves, standing only because of the strong arms that were around her and the chest that she was leaning back into. Her hyperventilating breaths had finally calmed, but every fiber of her being seemed to be trembling. She couldn't take deep breaths, couldn't see straight. All she could see, all she wanted, was her son. Her beautiful, sweet baby son who had made her life feel more complete that she could have ever imagined. It felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest. She didn't know how she was going to continue to live if she… if she lost him.

Behind her, Grissom's arms were strong, but his insides were as flimsy as wet spaghetti. He controlled his shaking for Sara's sake, but he couldn't stop the tears from flowing out of his eyes. He let them run, and he let Catherine wipe them away every so often, although they'd soon be replaced with another fresh flow. His heart was pounding, his throat had a massive lump in it that he couldn't seem to swallow. All he wanted was his baby son, his son who had been his mother's dream come true, _his _dream come true, the miniature Sara in every way except for his clear blue eyes that made his heart warm every time he laid eyes on him. He couldn't let himself think the worst. His son was not going to be a victim of this vile, repulsive man. He and Sara were not going to be victims. They were going to get through this, or… he didn't know what he would do.

"Tell me where the baby is, and maybe we can work something out," Brass tried.

At that, Vince let out a snort.

"Right," he sneered. "Because you'll just let me off for five homicides and one attempted murder? Likely."

"Okay, then," Brass said, switching gears. "Tell me why. Why did you do it?"

Vince leaned back into his chair and tried to cross his arms, remembering at the last minute that they were handcuffed together. He contemplated answering for a while before he decided to go for it. What did he have to lose? And the longer they beat around the bush, the less of a chance that damned baby had of making it.

"My niece Claire was a ballerina," he said. "Took classes five days a week and wanted to go to Julliard to become a professional when she grew up. Until she was murdered, that is."

Behind the one-way glass, five pairs of eyes widened.

"She was eight," Vince continued. "And my sister was twenty-nine. You fucking cops never found out who did it."

"So why become the monster?" Brass asked. "Why put so many other people through the pain of losing someone?"

"I want _everyone_ to be as miserable as me," Vince answered, leaning forward a little. "No one deserves to be happy when my baby sister and her baby girl are dead."

"All those times I waved to him from the drive," Sara said quietly in Grissom's arms. "I never saw it. I _never _saw it coming. How could I be so _stupid_?"

"People like Vince," Grissom began. "Are mad. But… they're good at hiding it. There was never a reason to suspect him."

"Your M.O. was young mothers with babies," Brass said. "Why?"

"Why not?"

Sara trembled.

"Aiden," she said faintly.

Grissom grasped her tighter; frightened she actually _would_ faint, struggling against a new batch of tears threatening to spill over his eyes.

"Let's get back on topic," Brass said. "Where's the boy?"

Vince examined his nails as if they were the world's most interesting artifacts.

"And again with the silent treatment," Brass remarked. "What, you don't like me?"

"Where's Sara?" Vince asked, cruelty in his voice. "I bet she'd like to have a few words with me. Beating her up and then taking her baby… bet I'm not her favorite person right now."

"Why'd you turn yourself in?" Brass challenged back. "You've admitted to _everything_… why?"

"Like I said, I've had my fun," Vince chuckled. "And what's the fun in not getting to see how it all plays out? I have nothing left to live for... and I wanted to be here for the grand finale."

"I want to get in there," Sara whispered, her muscles tense. "I want to talk to him."

"No."

The syllable came from every mouth watching behind the interrogation glass.

"Sara, that is not a good idea," Greg said.

"I'm sorry, honey, but that's not going to happen," Catherine said.

"We won't let him win," Grissom said. "Showing our fear does exactly that."

Sara swallowed hard.

"I just want to know why," she said weakly, sounding as if she could lose it any second. "I just… I want my baby."

"Aiden Grissom is a four-month-old child," Brass was saying. "He has nothing to do with the death of your niece and sister. Vince. Think about it. Sara and Gil are your neighbors. Your friends. Why put them through this?"

"I told you," Vince said impatiently. "_Everyone _deserves to feel the pain I'm in."

"This is your chance to do one thing right, Vince," Brass said. "Tell us where the kid is, or you will have the full wrath of Vegas P.D. raining down hard."

"Sounds like fun."

Vince's eyes twinkled and Brass's anger rose into a lump in his throat. He wanted to pound this bastard into the ground for doing this to Gil and Sara.

"Captain Brass? Sir?"

Tall, lanky Ethan Range stood in the open doorway to the interrogation room.

"This better be important."

"It is," Ethan assured him. "We got a call. Some guy was out on a midnight jog and tripped over something sticking out of the bushes. It's him, Captain. Sidle's kid."

"Looks like you lost your bargaining chip," Brass said to Vince. The latter only smiled cruelly.

"You'll be too late," he said gleefully.

"Captain Brass," Ethan said, just loudly enough for the observers behind the window to hear. "He's right. Paramedics are on the scene. It… it doesn't look good."

Behind the glass and in Grissom's arms, Sara whimpered. Vincent Malone, ex-Marine, ex-mechanic and murderer five times over glared through the window, where he knew that the not-so-happy couple was most likely standing.

It was then that Grissom wept.

* * *

**TBC.**


	12. Chapter 12

_One year and eight months later._

Sara brought her mug of hot chocolate out to the front porch of the house and hugged her jacket closer. She'd spent all day packing and she was exhausted. She leaned over the porch railing, blowing softly on her cocoa to cool it down, and couldn't help but glance at the house next door out of the corner of her eye. Vince Malone's house. It had been empty for over a year, and sure enough, not one sign of life came from behind its dark windows. She'd wanted to move out the day after… it… had happened, but it took them a long time to sell. Now, finally, they were getting away from the place that held so many bad memories, the place that expatiated a nightmare. They'd be in their new home before Christmas. And better yet, they'd be closer to Nick, Greg _and _Catherine. It would help to have some familiar faces right around the corner.

She sighed and swallowed hard as she tried and failed for the thousandth time to forget what happened that day. It was hard escaping it. Vince Malone's malicious grin haunted her in her sleep and she saw his face everywhere she went. She'd even freaked out in the grocery store one day because she was _sure_ that she'd seen him. He had caused irreparable damage that day.

"Honey?"

She heard the front door open and close behind her and she knew her husband had come looking for her. He often got worried when she was alone too long. She felt his arms creep around her waist.

"What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked. "It's freezing."

"I'm thinking."

Grissom paused.

"Thinking about what?"

"You know."

She felt his fingers quiver a little on her waist and she knew she was worrying him. She turned around to face him.

"It's okay, though," she said. "We're moving and that part of our lives is… it's going to be done with. We're moving on."

"That's right," Grissom beamed at her, tracing his thumb back and forth on her cheek. "And with Vince's verdict yesterday, we won't be seeing anything from him for a long, long time. It's over, honey."

Sara nodded slowly and Grissom leaned in to kiss her. He captured her head in his hands and felt the heat of her breath on his lips. The twinkle of the neighborhood's Christmas lights brightened the darkening sky around them and at some point, it began to snow. Grissom's lips left Sara's, though she desperately wanted them to stay, and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Everyone's inside," he whispered into her ear. "Are you ready to go back in?"

She nodded into his chest and hand-in-hand, they went back into the warmth of the house. A lot of things greeted them inside – the flickering light of the fire, the smell of wine in the air and the sound of Catherine and Nick belting out Christmas carols in a key that was not quite correct. But the very first thing Sara was greeted with when she walked through the door was her nearly two-year-old son racing towards her, snowman pajamas on his body and Rudolph slippers on his tiny feet, his eyes as big and blue as ever.

She captured him in his arms and breathed in his fresh, baby scent. She stood up with him in her arms, his hands clasped around her neck.

"Mommy!"

"Yeah, baby?"

"What's tomorrow?" he asked.

"Hmm, I don't know," she played along. "What is tomorrow?"

"My birthday!" Aiden exclaimed with glee.

Sara widened her eyes and dropped her jaw.

"Are you going to be _two_?" she asked him.

In response, Aiden held up two fingers and Sara pressed a kiss to his cheek. He giggled. She saw Grissom watching them and she blew him a kiss for good measure. Aiden was squirming to get down, he was nothing but energy these days, and he took off running towards Greg the moment he was back on his feet. Sara smiled as she watched Aiden settle into Greg's lap. Their friends had gathered tonight, not for a Christmas celebration or a moving away party, but for Aiden's second birthday. They'd all brought gifts for the blue-eyed little boy with a mess of curly brown hair on the strict instructions of that same little boy. He sure had Sara's perseverance all right.

Grissom joined Sara and slipped a hand around her waist as Greg tousled Aiden's curls and Brass wheeled over his present – a blue and yellow three-wheeled trike. Aiden squealed his thanks and bolted from Greg's lap onto the trike. Brass pushed him around the living room, minding the packed boxes and the scraggly Christmas tree in the corner.

"Careful!" Sara called out to them.

Vince Malone had taken a lot of things from them that night. Peace of mind, simplicity, a good night's sleep, yes. But he hadn't taken away her family. And that was always most important. Every time Sara wrapped her arms around her son she was reminded of how it felt to hold him after the tubes to help him breathe had finally been removed. He almost hadn't made it that night. But he had, he was a fighter, and he had grown into an inquisitive, energetic toddler with his mother's curiosity and his father's charm. As far as she was concerned, Aiden was a miracle.

Sara's gaze floated around the room, taking in the faces of all those she loved, finally landing on her husband, one of the people she loved the very most.

Life itself was a miracle.

* * *

**The End**

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who has read this story. Your comments and reviews not only make my day, but continually help me to be a better writer. So, good, bad, or ugly, let me know what you think! You may just spark an idea for the next story :) x


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